


See Myself in You

by Hazama_d20



Series: Side Hoes Week 2021 [1]
Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Danny can't be an astronaut, Danny will never be a cop, Lancer gives some advice, Self-Reflection, Teaching, musings, teacher
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:02:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29897403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazama_d20/pseuds/Hazama_d20
Summary: Mr. Lancer takes a good look at some of his students and sees some of his best traits in each of them. As he thinks through some of his more notorious students, he begins to wonder what he can find of himself in Danny.
Series: Side Hoes Week 2021 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2198235
Comments: 7
Kudos: 79





	See Myself in You

**Author's Note:**

> This is written for Side Hoes week 2021. The Prompt for March 7th was Lancer and Reflections. 
> 
> This time [aniura](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aniura) and [HeroineOfTime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeroineofTime/) were not beta's due to timing and life, but they were major inspirations for this fic.

Lancer stared at his reflection in the mirror as he washed his hands. His eyes were drawn to the bags under his eyes, a distinct difference to the shine on his forehead. He cupped his hands under the faucet and then splashed his face a few times with the not quite ice-cold water. Not feeling that much more refreshed, he cupped his hands again and let the water pool. This time he slowly brought his hands up and placed his face in the shallow pool. 

He heard the door slam open, and he dropped the water. By the time the student had gotten around the privacy wall, he had managed to get a paper towel to dry off his face and had started on his hands. The student looked up at Lancer with some amount of fear, the healthy kind, and quietly made his way to a stall. 

Lancer looked at his reflection one more time, feeling a bit more alert and awake. He took a deep breath and then walked out of the bathroom. His reflection had got him thinking about the students he had been teaching. He had recently assigned them a paper to write about how they reflect on their parents. It was an open secret in the staff lounge that he had been hoping to get some of his students to reflect on their own natures and possibly grow up a bit. 

But he couldn’t help but start musing on how his students reflected him. 

Sam Manson was an easy one. Sadly, some of the lessons she learned from him weren’t from positive moments. She had always been driven, but as she butted against his authority, she grew more and more persistent. Lancer remembered the shocked look on her face - and her parents - when he praised her for that nature of hers during the parent-teacher conferences. 

Her parents may not have liked her stubborn nature, but Lancer knew just how important that could be in life. 

A stubborn nature was how he got up every morning to go to a workplace that didn’t pay him well so he could teach students who didn’t appreciate what he did for them. He didn’t realize how special his teachers were when he was their age either. He didn’t blame them. 

But Sam’s drive, the same sort of stubborn bull-headedness that would make him sit a student down with after-school detentions every day, even when he just wanted to go home and relax, was the sort of thing that could move mountains, or a letter grade. 

Lancer turned the corner to see Tucker Foley playing with his PDA. Tucker looked up at him and waved a hand. “Morning, Mr. Lancer!” he said brightly. 

“Morning, Mister Foley,” Lancer said with a nod. Tucker smiled a little brighter at being treated a bit more like an adult than he would get from anyone else. Tucker looked back at his PDA, and Lancer continued on.

His thoughts lingered on Tucker a while longer. Tucker was an exceptionally brilliant young man. Lancer admitted he wasn’t too hip when it came to computers, but he knew that they were rapidly going to become a major part of every household or workplace. Based on his own experiences, Lancer would bet money on Tucker going into the field of computers after high school. 

Lancer did something similar himself, after all. Lancer grew up reading every single book he could get his hands on. His home library was arguably better than the school’s, if he did say so himself. 

Lancer once again turned the corner. 

“Look out!” 

He looked up, just in time to see a football flying at him. He caught it, not as gracefully or as elegantly as he’d like, but at least it didn’t hit him in the face. He looked down at the young Dash Baxter with a raised eyebrow. “I know you are excited, Dash, but please keep practice till AFTER school.”

Dash chuckled, his face reddening in embarrassment. “Sorry, Mr. Lancer,” he apologized, before perking up. “Hey! Are you coming to the game tonight?” 

“Of course!” Lancer said, handing the ball over. “You know I pride myself on my school spirit!”

“Awesome!” Dash said, taking the ball and running down the hall toward his friend Kwan. “See you in third period!” he shouted, waving as he ran backwards. 

“Don’t run in the halls!” Lancer chided. He chuckled to himself as Dash ran away. He shook his head. He’d heard Dash lament that these were his glory years, and well, Lancer understood that too. Lancer looked up at the framed graduating class listings that lined the halls outside his regular classroom. He had requested this particular classroom because he loved seeing the students’ graduating faces who had come before.

Lancer’s best years of his life were his years in high school; hopefully, Dash would come to realize by the end of his four years that he could work on making others’ four years just as lovely as his own. Dash would make an excellent gym teacher or highschool football coach. That was, assuming he didn’t go pro. 

Lancer frowned. Thinking about Dash made him think of his other troublesome student, Daniel Fenton. Daniel was a bit of an enigma. Lancer could not for the life of him get a read on that boy. 

Lancer opened the door to his classroom and blinked in surprise. The subject of his thoughts was already in the room along with another student, Michael. 

“Here,” Danny was saying, handing Michael an ice pack, “just hold this on it for a while. You don’t have a concussion or anything.” 

“Thanks, Danny, but don’t you need this?”

Daniel shook his head. “Nah, you need it more right now.”

“Thanks.” Micheal looked up, his eyes widening as he set eyes on the teacher. “Oh! Mr. Lancer!”

Lancer shook himself out of his thoughts. “Michael, Daniel, is there a problem?”

Danny shoved a first aid kit in his backpack - when did he start carrying one of those? - and answered, “Mikey had a run-in with some of the football players. They shoved him against a locker.”

Michael whirled around to stare at Daniel. “Danny!” he hissed. 

Daniel shrugged. “Hey, you didn’t snitch. I did. What are they going to do? Shove me in a locker again?”

Lancer narrowed his eyes. True, he had a lot of pressure on him to go easy on the football team, especially this close to nationals, but he couldn’t turn a blind eye to that. “There’ll be no shoving of anyone in lockers.”

Daniel rolled his eyes, completely disbelieving in Lancer. “If you say so, Mr. Lancer.” 

Lancer had to admit, that stung a bit. 

Daniel, ignoring Lancer again, turned to Michael. “You should probably get going to class.”

Michael hopped off the desk. “That’s rich, coming from you.” 

Daniel laughed and held out his arms. “Hey! I’m here, aren’t I?” 

“Thanks, Danny!” Michael shouted as he left the room, holding the ice pack to his head and waving with the other hand

“No problem!” Daniel said before sitting down at the desk he was assigned. Dead center of the classroom, where Lancer could keep an eye on him. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a backpack, and started working on homework that was due later. 

Lancer watched him work for a little bit. Daniel had five or so minutes before the bell would ring. That gave Daniel time to possibly finish his assignment and for Lancer to reflect on what he had seen. 

He remembered taking his personal time to make sure Daniel passed a test that he  _ knew  _ he could pass. It was a long week for the both of them. Neither of them had been able to go home and play games that week. 

“Mr. Fenton,” Lancer began. Danny jumped at the sound of his voice, almost even out of his seat. Lancer waited a moment for Daniel to calm down before continuing. “What are your plans after high school?” 

Daniel ducked his head. “Uh, no offense Mr. Lancer? But I  _ really  _ don’t want to get another D from you, so…” He gestured toward his unfinished homework, cheeks a tad flushed.

Lancer glanced up at the clock. He had never had a chance to just  _ talk  _ with Daniel before, at least, not in any  _ real  _ capacity. He reached into his desk and pulled out a slip of paper. Quickly, he wrote, “+50% extra credit ” and signed his name. 

He got up and handed it to Daniel, who looked at it with wide eyes. Gently and carefully, he put it against his paper and folded the corner of the sheet into it. He made a slight tear in the fold, the same thing Lancer did when he needed to keep papers together but didn’t have a stapler or paper clip. 

Daniel pushed the homework aside and scratched the side of his head. “I wanted to be an astronaut, but that’s not possible anymore.”

Lancer sat down on the desk across from Daniel and folded his hands. “You still could, you know. There’s still time.”

Daniel shook his head. “No, it’s  _ physically  _ impossible.” He let out a long sigh, filled with a bone-weary tiredness that didn’t belong in a 14-year-old. Lancer felt himself shiver slightly at the sound, one he was all-too familiar with himself. “Remember the first week of school? That accident?”

Lancer nodded. “It’s difficult to forget,” he stated, keeping his voice neutral. The fact that Daniel was banned from handling anything in the chemistry department was not something easily forgotten. 

Daniel slumped back in his chair. “Yeah, well, it’s… I got hurt. I got hurt  _ bad _ .” Lancer’s eyes widened and Daniel sat up. “My parents know!” he interjected, quickly alleviating Lancer’s fears, “it’s just…” Danny put his hand on his chest. “My heart rate is scarily low, and same with my blood pressure. It’s low enough that the doctors were thinking of putting me on meds to raise it.”

He paused for a moment, lost in thought, before he looked up at Lancer and huffed, “It’s just not possible.”

Lancer let out a quiet hum, mind reeling at this startling information. “Have you put thought into what else you might want to do?”

Danny shrugged. “A little bit, but I’m just not sure.” He leaned forward and let his head rest in his hand. He placed his elbow on the desk and gestured with his other hand. “I kind of wanted to do something to help the community, you know?” 

Lancer blinked. “Like a police officer or firefighter?” he offered.

Danny recoiled. “Definitely not a police officer!” At Lancer’s raised eyebrow, he gave Lancer a flat look. “Sam’s an activist, and my best friend is Tucker.” 

“Ah,” Lancer said, adjusting to face Daniel more. “I’m glad to see you’re paying attention to the news at least.” Lancer may have been an English teacher first and foremost, but he was also the history teacher, and math teacher, until such a time they could find a teacher not scared of ghost attacks. 

Danny shrugged. “Yeah, kind of hard not to. I’ve been at some of Sam’s protests…” He trailed off somewhat hopelessly. 

Lancer tilted his head and looked at Daniel. “You know, there’s another career that’s all about helping people.”

Daniel’s head snapped toward Lancer. “Really? What is it?”

Lancer indicated himself. “A teacher.” 

“A teacher?” Daniel mused to himself, a slight smile forming on his face.

The door to the classroom banged open as some careless students knocked into it. They and several other students started pouring in, chattering with each other Lancer slid off the desk and moved over to his own, and began to get ready for class. He looked back at Daniel as he started writing on the chalkboard. Daniel continued to smile as he pulled out his books. 

Lancer glanced over to his desk, specifically the draw that he hoped he’d never have to open. The first-aid kit in there had been used a few times over the years, but never in any serious capacity, thank god. 

Maybe he and Daniel had more in common than he thought. 


End file.
